


Remember, Remember Me

by lovethedarkside



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers, Hunger Games Series - All Media Types, Hunger Games Trilogy - Suzanne Collins
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Hunger Games Setting, F/M, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-03-16
Updated: 2014-03-16
Packaged: 2018-01-15 21:38:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,352
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1320103
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lovethedarkside/pseuds/lovethedarkside
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ah, it was the day Panem has been waiting for: the celebration of a century of Hunger Games. This time, there's no one to stop him as he brings the world to their knees. But existence is a strange, strange thing, and there might be more to dying than lack of a heartbeat.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Remember, Remember Me

The night sky was filled with heavy anticipation for the rise of the sun as Panem lay under the thick, soft sheets of his bed. The nation rolled in his sleep, black hair turned even blacker in the shadowy darkness. Beneath his closed eyelids, memories and scenes from before, of wars and loss and glory, played out in vivid detail.

* * *

_He came from nowhere. It was years before anyone recognized him, but yet, still many ignored him. That was their first mistake._

_Panem remembered when he was young and nothing more than an idea floating through a young and ambitious man's mind. He had no real form or structure. He had been smaller than Sealand and less corporeal than Canada, simply a wisp with no defining characteristics. He had been weak._

_Patience was his best friend. He moved all around the world, where the land was rapidly changing. Countries disappeared under the waves of the ocean while new islands sprung up and old ones shifted. Panem settled on one of these new islands, right off the coast of California. He gained himself some residents and set off to become his own nation._

_America was the first to notice him. This hardly came as a surprise, considering that Panem had basically moved in next door. Instead of recognizing him as a country, however, America took him under his wing as a state. This was the first time Panem received an official name._ Panem _, America dubbed him,_ You will grow and make me proud.

_For years, Panem had been happy with America as his father. _Panem learned a lot under America's care._ America taught him what it meant to be a good representative of his people. He taught him that, for his people to be happy, they needed to be free. _ That was the most important thing _, America had repeated to him everyday,_ Let your people be free _._

_Panem thrived in those years. His culture and cities grew, and with it came strength and structure. He developed features of his own, and grew up quickly. Granted, he was a few centimeters shorter than his fellow states, but that was to be expected. After all, he was only a decade or so old._

_Panem's hair was a velvety-soft black, and it grew in gentle waves like the ocean he surrounded himself with. His eyes were the yellow-green of newborn grass, potential and ambition gleaming from their depths. His skin was delicately pale, a result of years of being sheltered in the shade of silky umbrellas. Perhaps he wasn't a real country, but for the moment, Panem was satisfied as a part of America._

_A decade or so later, however, that mindset began to change. The more America taught him of freedom, the more Panem wanted it for himself. America had successfully instilled in the young state's mind an unquenchable thirst for independence. Panem started to view the United States as bossy and oppressive. He wanted to be his very own nation. He wanted to feel as strong as, or even stronger than, the United States. He wanted power._

_One day, Panem confronted America about it. "I want to be free from you," he said._

_America laughed. Speaking in a gentle voice, he started to explain to Panem what a state was. "I don't_ own _you; you're just a part of me," he said, touching the freckle on his neck that represented Panem, "I can't give you freedom."_

_Panem scowled and hissed, "I_ know _what a state is, but I want to be a country."_

_America shook his head and chuckled again. Tossing Panem a baseball, he told the state to go outside and play. "Go outside and let the fresh air clear your head. Tomorrow, you'll see, everything'll be a-okay!"_

_Panem caught the ball and stomped out of the office._

_This was the beginning of Panem's suppressed hatred towards his father._

_Now, Panem was a smart little state, and he knew full well that there was no way he could take out America by himself. No, he would need the support of other nations. How hard could that be? So many others knew the pain that was wanting to be free from another's rule: like Ukraine from Russia, or America from England. Well, maybe he shouldn't talk to America, but maybe Ukraine or perhaps Sealand or..._

_So, Panem began to sneak out frequently. He visited other countries and talked with them: Ukraine, Sealand, every micronation ever. They all refused to help, saying that they wouldn't interfere with another country like that. Soon enough, Panem realized his original plan was never going to work, not anytime soon, at least. So, he sat down and thought hard and drew out little strategies on scrap paper._

_If the other nations weren't going to work with him, then they would simply have to be eliminated. Thus began Panem's plan to cause the collapse of the entire world._

_He started small. After all, all journeys began with a single step. Hell, he began smaller than anything. Panem spread nasty little rumors about other nations. Gradually, the state turned the other countries against one another. Human nature and pride took care of the rest._

_America stayed out of it as usual, trying to play peacemaker. Panem observed with a self-satisfied smirk on his face as his father watched in despair the world collapsing around him._

_Finally, America stepped forward, trying to help sort the truth from the lies and accusations. Cuba stopped him, proclaiming that all America wanted to do was take over everyone, a notion conveniently placed in his brain by Panem. America protested loudly as he was forcibly and inevitably drawn, once again, into the next World War._

_Once he was in the war, despite protests to joining in the first place, America went in all the way. He pulled himself together and ruthlessly took out the enemy. He might have won, too, had Panem not been anonymously spilling national secrets to anyone who would listen. A couple years down the road, and America was a complete wreck: emotionally, economically, and physically. Waiting for and finding the perfect moment, Panem stood and boldly declared himself a new country. America gave him up without a fight, too weak to do anything but barely scrape by._

_Panem had never felt so powerful.  
_

_In the postwar rubble, Panem took over America, state by state, without hesitation. Once America was his, he spread his power to other nations. It took years of successes and failures, it was true, but soon enough, Panem succeeded in holding the entirety of the world in the palm of his hand._

_Or the basement of his mansion as the case may be._

* * *

Morning dawned quickly, and Panem rose from his slumber. Glancing at the clock on his bedside table, he grinned. It was finally time. Panem quickly dressed in his elaborate and formal uniform. Dusting gold power into his hair, Panem smiled to himself in the mirror. His complexion was finally smoothing out and his hair finally regrowing after forty years. He looked absolutely flawless and completely dangerous. Not that it was even possible for him to look anything else.

Looking once more at the clock, Panem pushed open the heavily carved and gilded door of his bedroom. Silently, he stepped into the long hallway. He turned left and began walking, the clack of his boots muffled by the thick carpeting.

Today, you see, was a very special day. Panem had waited decades for this day: the 100th Hunger Games. The name itself sent prickle of pride and power through his heart. It was the fourth Quarter Quell, and the first one to be celebrated under Panem's new rule after the rebellion.

The rebellion. It was true that this had caused a tiny, little speed bump in his progress. Now he laughs when he thinks of the absurdity of it all: an insubordinate little girl who honestly believed she could go alone against her very country -- a country that took down the whole world on his own, nonetheless -- and win. Maybe she managed to overthrow the government Panem so carefully picked out, but Panem was still Panem. The questionable power she held was undermined by the fact that she did not have any knowledge of her country's personification. This alone put Panem at a much, much higher advantage than Katniss.

But Panem didn't waste time feeling bad about how unfair the competition was. The regain of control of his country was relatively easy. All it required was some time and patience, a well-timed attack, and the removal of some key people. Reinsert his own people as the government, and there you have it: _How To Recapture Your Country, For Dummies_.

Now that everything had successfully iron itself out, Panem was going to reveal the special surprise he had for this year's Games. He went through countless passages and up and down several flights of stairs before he reached his destination. Hanging before him was a beautifully woven tapestry, depicting an illustrated map of the old world. Panem paused and touched it reverently, reveling in the pride he felt from conquering it all. As soon as he felt the prickling of another emotion, one he refused to name, he snatched his hand away and swept aside the tapestry.

An inconspicuous door revealed itself to the nation. It was made of the same material as the surrounding wall in order to hide it from prying eyes. Panem removed a small, silver key from the chain around his neck and slipped it into a hidden slit near the top of the door. The key turned and clicked softly, and the door swung open with a quiet hiss.

As soon as Panem stepped into the hidden corridor, the door swung closed once more, locking and keeping the key. A harsh white light flickered on, revealing lines of closed doors lining each side of the hallway.

Twenty-four in total. It was perfect for his plan.

Walking to the first door, Panem opened it, not bothering to knock. The brightness of the hallway streamed into the previously pitch black room. Huddled in the middle, on a threadbare blanket, was a painfully familiar, blond-haired ex-nation. Panem swallowed down the bile that rose in his throat, hatred burning in his veins as he stared down at the pitiful figure.

"America."

America glared back, betrayal written all over his face. "Panem." His eyes were still as blue as they were before. Panem knew that he might have conquered this man's lands, but he had not conquered his soul. Maybe he never will.

Panem leaned down, close to America's face. "I have a job for you," he murmured, "And the rest of you." America blinked in surprise, but quickly went back to glaring. Panem noticed the flicker of emotion and grinned. "You haven't seen them in _ages_ , have you? You must be so lonely in here."

America growled, the sound rippling from deep within his throat. Panem slapped him across his face, effectively knocking him over. Placing his elbow against the other's neck, he pressed hard. All sounds from America were cut off along with his air. "You might still be immortal," Panem hissed, "But you are still weaker than I am." America forced himself to relax, and Panem moved back again, pleased to see America being put in his proper place. "Now, are you willing to listen to me? No more interruptions, hmm?"

"Yes, sir," America said roughly, some defiance creeping into the submissive phrase. Panem sighed. America was simply impossible to deal with some days. Panem didn't know why he even bothered to visit him, or the other nations.

"Good." Panem stood up and began pacing around the room. He had no concern about whether or not America would try to run. There was nowhere where America could run. He had lost his ability to hop continents when he lost his status as a nation, and even Europe and parts of Asia were under Panem's control. There were some blind spots that Panem had not had the manpower to bother with, and the entirety of South America and Africa were free from his empire, but Panem had enough confidence in his superiority that that wouldn't be an issue.

"You've heard of the Hunger Games, I'm sure?" Seeing America nod, Panem continued. "Good. This year is the Hundredth Games, and I want to make it special. I've decided to showcase some of the pretty little nations I've defeated." He paused to see what America would do. Much to his disappointment, no growling was forthcoming. "And afterwards, I think I'll show them what happens to people who get in my way."

_This_ provoked a response. "No. I refuse to participate."

Panem grinned evilly. "Oh, no. You're not participating; the tributes are, as always. We can't have them think they're getting a year off. They might forget the real purpose of the Games, and we can't have them _ever_ forget." He sighed. "No. You'll find out soon enough. For now, we need to get you dressed up for the announcement."

With that, Panem pulled America up and off the ground. "Follow me, and don't even think about running. Then again, I wouldn't put it past you to be that stupid."

America sneered at the younger nation but ultimately remained silent, obediently doing as he was told.

Panem led him down the hall, opening up each of the other twenty-three doors and relaying the same message. America nodded to each of the other nations (or ex-nations, rather) as they joined the train: the Italies, Germany and Prussia, Canada, France, England, Spain, Russia, China, four of the five Nordics, Japan, Switzerland, Poland, Lithuania, Greece, Austria, Hungary, Romania, and Lichtenstein.

That was all. These twenty-four nations represented the vastness of Panem's reign. During the War, nations formed close alliances, some even dissolving their borders with stronger nations to ensure their survival. The many smaller countries of Europe united to become fewer in number but greater in size and strength. After the end of the war, many countries let down their guards. Now, the smaller numbers worked against them as Panem took them out one by one.

"Big brother," Liechtenstein whimpered, "Where is everyone else? Are we the only ones left?"

Switzerland shook his head. "There's no way of knowing if anyone else survived. We need to focus on staying alive. We are barely holding on, by some miracle."

Panem, who was shamelessly eavesdropping, grinned. "Hanging on? Ha! Not for long."

Italy let out a squeak. "No, no! Don't kill me, please! I'll tell you anything!" He buried himself in Germany's sturdy embrace.

From then on, their journey passed in silence. Panem herded them through ornate halls and spiraling stairs, all absolutely dripping in wealth and power. Finally, Panem stopped outside a door, which opened to reveal a large circular room. Doors branched off in all directions, a flag hanging above each entrance.

After all twenty-four ex-nations were comfortably fitted into the room, Panem clapped his hands twice. "Nations, find your rooms and put on your uniforms," Panem ordered briskly, "It shouldn't be hard to figure out, even for you. You'll find that I've kept some of your belongings in preparation for today. I'll be back in a few hours to collect you when it's time to go."

That being said, Panem walked out of the room and let the heavy door latch and lock behind him. There was a tense pause as the ex-nations waited for Panem's footsteps to fade into the distance.

Once it was silent, all chaos erupted.

"Iggy!" America cried as he joyfully threw himself into the older country's arms, "It's been _years_ since I saw you last!"

England grumbled but hugged the noisy nation nonetheless. "Yes, well, I missed you too, America," he muttered into America's shoulder.

All around them, similar reunions were taking place.

Switzerland was holding onto Liechtenstein like she'd dissolve into a dream if he didn't. Heaven knows he'd had enough of those dreams to be cautious. Even if it wasn't a dream, death was all the more permanent in real life, and he couldn't adequately protect little Liechtenstein without the comforting weight of his rifle across his back.

"Little sister," he murmured quietly in his own tongue, "Sister, I've missed you."

Little Liechtenstein didn't say anything in return, but smiled even more adoringly up at her adoptive brother. She was safe so long as he was there, she knew. She had no one to fear.

On the other side of the room, Romano found himself the center of some surprisingly not-so-unwanted attention as both his northern half and warm, sunny Spain hugged him and cried on him and told him through huge sobs how much they had missed him and how they never want to leave him again.

"Lovi, Lovi," mumbled Spain, "You don't know how dark it was in that little room! I was all alone, and it was awful!"

"Ve~" chirped North Italy, "I couldn't see anything, and Panem took all my pasta ingredients. I was so hungry!"

Japan stood awkwardly in the midst of the crying fray of nations until Germany came over, finally freed from the clingy and smiling Italy. Together they stood, simply observing the scenes with small smiles on their faces.

"It's nice to see you, Germany," Japan said after a moment.

Germany nodded and said in return, "And you, Japan." Then, they returned to their previous silence.

Canada stood a bit off to side of the crowd, feeling just a little upset that the only person to even acknowledge him had been his brother. Even that had been unfortunately brief before America skipped off to torment England or something. After a while, Canada simply gave up on waiting and turned to find his room. He might as well get something done if no one was going to talk to him.

But before he managed to take as much as a single step, he heard a familiarly obnoxious voice. "Birdie!" Prussia called, running toward him, "There you are. The Awesome Me has been searching all over for you. Ugh, people are so clingy and emotional. Not me, of course, I'm too awesome for that; clustering is for the weak, after all." He stopped and blinked rapidly, a strange distant look creeping up in his pink eyes. "But anyway... why're you hiding over here in the corner?"

Canada repressed the urge to remind Prussia that they were currently standing in a circular room that had no corners. Nothing good would come from that. Instead, he just shook his head and shrugged. "Eh, I guess I've never been very loud. People wouldn't notice me even if I stood in the center of the room. At least here I won't be run over."

"Not loud?" the silver-haired man snorted, "Have you seen yourself during hockey season? I remember how, whenever I managed to get you drunk enough, you'd be yelling your head off and attacking anything that moved with your hockey stick."

Canada winced and recalled the many times he woke up to find himself in jail, waiting for Prussia, America, or his boss to come bail him out. "I guess that's not going to ever happen again," he sighed sadly.

"Aw, come on, Birdie," Prussia said, pulling Canada into a warm embrace, "Don't be so depressing. We're too awesome for that."

After a while longer of these heart warming reunions, Japan spoke over the sound of the slowly calming crowd. "Shouldn't we get changed like Panem told us to before he gets back?"

"Yeah," Poland shouted from where he stood with his arm around Lithuania's slender waist, "These gray jumpsuit things are, like, totally ugly. I've been wearing the same thing for, like, ever."

Canada patted Prussia on the back. "Yeah, Japan is right. We should get going. I'll see you in a few."

Disengaging himself from Prussia's tightening grip, Canada made his way towards the door with a familiar flag hanging above it. Opening the door, he broke into a smile at the sight of his old friend.

"Kumakita!"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, this was the first chapter of my newest project! Any sort of comments or criticism -- except the harmful, angry ones -- are greatly appreciated.
> 
> [[Edit 3/11/15: Just some minor changes to fix typos and things that would mess with future continuity.]]


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